Ghost Stories
by everythingisdragons
Summary: Alfred had always been afraid of ghosts. Well, only the one ghost that had been following him for his whole life and happened to look just like him. After a chance encounter with this ghost, the two begin to build a strange friendship, and Alfred's life starts to fall apart-and maybe make a little sense, too.


Alfred was afraid of ghosts. He always had been, even as a child. Ghost stories sent shivers down his spine, and horror movies featuring the dead gave him nightmares. He avoided cemeteries and changed the channel if a commercial for a psychic came on. He just hated ghosts.

He didn't have a rational explanation for his fear. If someone asked him why he was afraid, he would just shrug and say it was probably because he watched a scary movie or heard some story when he was younger and it had stuck with him. Of course, he would never tell anyone the true reason for his fear. The true explanation was too strange for anyone to believe. He actually saw a ghost.

It was only one ghost, so maybe that wasn't so bad, but this ghost had been following him for as long as he could remember. It looked almost exactly like him, same face, same body, but with lighter hair and eyes. Weirdly enough, this ghost grew up with him, too. They had been children together, then grew into teenagers at the same rate. Alfred didn't understand it, and he didn't want to.

At least, that's what he told himself as he walked home from work late one night. It was late October, a little foggy and just starting to rain. Alfred was trying not to think that this was perfect ghost weather when a voice startled him out of his thoughts.

"I wouldn't go that way if I were you," a quiet voice said from behind him.

Alfred jumped, startled. "Who's there?" He managed to speak without squeaking. He didn't look around, afraid to see what else could be near him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the voice said.

Alfred turned around. He couldn't see anyone. He started shaking. Voices out of nowhere usually only meant one thing.

"Are you all right?" The speaker suddenly appeared in front of him.

Alfred gasped in fear. His ghost was standing before him. He panicked-he couldn't help it, he was deathly terrified of ghosts-and ran in the opposite direction.

"Hey, wait!" The figure called after him, but Alfred wasn't about to stop for anything until something grabbed his arm. He stopped so suddenly that he fell to the ground, flat on his back. He closed his eyes, afraid to see whatever was with him.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" The voice was soft, even gentle. What kind of ghost was nice to its victims? Alfred dared to open his eyes, just a little bit.

Light from the streetlight reflected off a pair of glasses. The other person-or thing-was smiling gently. Alfred opened his eyes wider, squeaked, and shut them tight, hoping that if he ignored the ghost it would go away.

"It's all right, I won't hurt you," the ghost said calmly. "Actually, I was trying to keep you from getting hurt. There's a robbery going on a couple blocks down. You usually walk past that house, and I didn't want you to get involved in it."

"Uh, um, thanks," Alfred stammered.

The ghost paused. "Are you all right? You fell pretty hard."

Alfred swallowed a few times. "You kind of knocked me down."

"Sorry about that. I just wanted to keep you safe. I-I guess I didn't realize my strength."

Alfred finally opened his eyes, slowly. The ghost looked almost exactly like him, only with different colored hair and eyes. He wasn't transparent like ghosts usually were. Actually, he looked pretty human. Alfred felt a little bit of his fear drain away.

"What are you?" He asked the ghost, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"My name's Matthew if that's what you mean," the maybe-ghost answered.

Alfred swallowed again. "Are you a ghost?" He mentally kicked himself. This Matthew thing was a ghost; there was no other explanation.

Matthew shrugged. "I don't know. Only you seem to be able to see me. I was hoping you could tell me."

Alfred finally sat up. Matthew sat next to him. Alfred decided to take advantage of his proximity to the ghost to ask some questions.

"Why do you look exactly like me?" He asked. "Why did you grow up with as me? Don't ghosts stay the same all the time?" His fear was starting to slip away as he asked Matthew more questions.

Matthew looked overwhelmed at all of Alfred's questions. "I don't know."

"Are you haunting me?" Alfred demanded. He had to know the answer to this one. Never mind that he had no idea what he would do if the answer was yes.

"Um, I don't think so."

Alfred paused, thinking of one last question that would seal his decision to accept Matthew. "Do you like hamburgers?"

Matthew laughed. "I've never tried eating them. But I think they smell good."

Alfred nodded seriously. "What was I thinking? You can't eat, you're a ghost!"

"I'm not sure about the ghost thing."

"Well, we'll have to figure out if you're a ghost or not somehow." Alfred scowled, thinking. "I'm Alfred, by the way."

"I know."

Alfred laughed. Of course Matthew knew his name; he had been following him around for forever.

"Hey, I have an idea!" Alfred bounced up. "You can come stay with me until we figure out if you're a ghost or not!"

Matthew sighed. "And what if I'm a ghost?"

Alfred grabbed Matthew's hand and started dragging him toward his home. Matthew's hand felt strangely solid.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it!" Alfred said, laughing. "Now let's get home. I'm starving!"

* * *

After that night, Matthew gradually became Alfred's constant companion. It slowly stopped to matter whether Matthew was a ghost or not. Within a month, the two were practically inseparable, with Matthew accompanying his look-alike everywhere from school to work to the store. The two talked about everything, even though Alfred did most of the talking. Sometimes they argued. For Alfred, it began to feel like Matthew was the brother he never had, filling a gap he didn't know existed.

He couldn't explain it, but Matthew was the best thing that ever happened to him. He wanted the entire world to know that Matthew existed and that he was awesome, but he knew that his friends and family would brand him as crazy. Alfred could handle a lot of things, but he didn't think a crazy label was one of them. So, he kept his new best friend a secret, but with some difficulty.

"I think I like pancakes," Matthew said suddenly, interrupting Alfred's thoughts.

"When have you ever had pancakes? You're a ghost," Alfred said rudely.

"I can smell them, and I like the way pancakes smell. I've just never tried eating them." Matthew explained.

"Dude, that's a great idea," Alfred jumped up, ran over to the cupboards and started pulling random things out.

"Um, what's a good idea?"

"We're gonna make pancakes!" Alfred shouted. "And then we find out if you can eat them. If you can eat pancakes, you're not a ghost!"

"Who is a ghost?" Alfred's roommate-and cousin-Francis wandered into the room.

"Uh, no one," Alfred said quickly, trying not to glance at Matthew.

"I thought you were scared of ghosts," Francis glanced around the kitchen. "You are going to clean this up?"

"Yes, mom," Alfred responded sarcastically and started putting away what he didn't need.

"I thought you didn't like pancakes," Francis sat down in the chair that Matthew was sitting in. Matthew moved away quickly, narrowly avoiding being sat on.

Alfred dug in a drawer for a skillet. "Um, I don't think I've ever had pancakes."

Matthew gasped in horror. Alfred pretended to ignore him.

"Then how do you expect to make them?" Francis teased him, not that Alfred noticed.

"I'll look it up in one of your cookbooks, duh."

"We're all gonna die," Matthew mumbled. Alfred would have told him off, but Francis was in the room.

Alfred stumbled through making a batch of pancakes, aided by Matthew's sarcastic comments and Francis's teasing. Finally, after accidentally dumping half of the batter on the floor, nearly setting off the smoke alarm and breaking two plates, he set a stack of pancakes on the table.

Francis stared at the finished product skeptically. "This is why I do the cooking."

Matthew looked close to tears. "They look wonderful." At least they were tears of joy.

Alfred laughed. "Dig in," he ordered his cousin.

"You need maple syrup," Matthew told him.

"Right," Alfred answered him, forgetting that Francis was in the room. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?" Francis looked like he was still trying to decide if he wanted to eat Alfred's cooking.

"The maple syrup."

Francis looked confused and a little concerned. "We don't have any."

"What is wrong with you? You can't have pancakes without syrup," Matthew informed Alfred.

"How should I know that? We don't eat pancakes," Alfred told him.

"Who are you talking to?" Francis asked.

"Umm, just, you know, talking to myself," Alfred answered.

Francis made a face at him. "You have never talked to yourself before. Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he took a bite of his pancake, then glanced at Matthew. "You're right, they do need syrup."

"Told you so," Matthew responded.

Francis stared at Alfred in mild horror. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Alfred said through a mouthful of pancake. "Hey, Fran, how come we don't eat pancakes? They're delicious."

"I-I don't know," Francis said slowly.

"He's lying," Matthew whispered.

"Nuh-uh. Fran would never lie to me."

"Alfred, stop!" Francis grabbed the pancakes away from his cousin.

Alfred reached for his stolen food. "Give that back!" He demanded. "Mattie wouldn't like this!"

All three of them froze.

"Who is Mattie?" Francis said softly.

"I-I, um…" For maybe the first time in his life, Alfred had no words. Mattie must have been Matthew, but he had never called the other boy by that name before.

"Alfie…" Matthew's soft voice comforted and confused him. Matthew had never called him Alfie before, either.

Alfred turned to Mattie. "I don't understand."

"I know," Matthew put an arm around him. Matthew had always felt strangely solid for a ghost.

"Alfred?" Francis watched him carefully.

"It's nothing, Fran. I'm fine. Ha, guess I just need some sleep or something," Alfred was bad at lying. He could hear how false he sounded.

Francis wrapped an arm around him. "Of course, Alfred. Of course."

* * *

Alfred sat quietly for once. This doctor's office was not a place where he felt he could bounce around like he usually did. He had tried to keep from talking to Matthew as much as possible when Francis was around, but his cousin had walked in on his conversations with his invisible friend one too many times. Finally, Francis had gotten worried and taken him to a doctor. The first one had decided that there was nothing physically wrong with him. This one was a psychologist.

The doctor kept asking questions, talking gently. Francis sat next to his cousin, looking concerned. Matthew stood on his other side, also looking concerned. Alfred ignored the doctor and his cousin in favor of his ghost.

"Francis says that you've been talking to someone that he can't see. Can you tell me about your friend?" The doctor asked neutrally.

"It's okay, Alfred, they're just trying to help you," Matthew said gently.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with you," the doctor said. Francis buried his face in his hands.

"Alfred, please, we just want to help. You're scaring me," Francis said quietly.

"You want to take Matthew away from me," he mumbled.

"No, we don't. We just want to help you."

"There's nothing wrong with me," he repeated.

Matthew touched his arm. "Alfie, it's okay. You can answer their questions. They won't take me away from you."

He looked into Matthew's eyes. "Promise?"

Matthew nodded.

Alfred sighed, then answered the doctor's questions. "I've always seen Mattie. Ever since I was little. He's been following me since, well, since forever. It was weird, 'cause, you know, he was a kid with me, then he grew up while I did."

Francis sat up a little straighter. The doctor scribbled some notes.

"Anything else you want to tell us about Mattie?" The doctor asked.

"Don't call him Mattie. Only I can call him Mattie. His name is Matthew." Alfred childishly scolded the doctor.

"Of course, of course. Do you want to tell me anything else about Matthew?"

Alfred smiled. "He likes pancakes. And polar bears. And books and stargazing. His favorite season is fall, and he loves camping. I don't know why he likes camping, I don't think he's ever been. He's never said it, but he hates that no one can see him."

Matthew smiled and touched his hand. "I didn't know you were listening when I talked."

"I always listen to you, Mattie," he answered.

"Matthew is here? Right now?" The doctor looked around like he wanted to see Matthew.

"Of course he's here. He could go anywhere he wants, but he usually chooses to be with me because I'm the only one who can see him."

"Do you know why only you can see him?" The doctor asked.

Alfred shook his head.

"Do you have a guess?"

"Because Mattie likes me best!" Alfred smiled.

"Of course he likes you best," Francis mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Matthew asked sharply.

"Yeah, Fran, what's that mean?" Alfred repeated.

Francis shook his head. "Nothing, nothing. Don't worry about it, Alfred."

"But if it helps us find out why only I can see Matthew…"

"Alfred, I have no idea why only you can see Matthew."

"You think I'm crazy."

"I never said that!"

"You were thinking it."

"Alfred, stop," Matthew told him.

"Alfred, that's enough," the doctor said. "Now, if you don't mind stepping outside the room, I would like to talk to your cousin alone for a few minutes."

Alfred obediently stood up and moved to the small waiting area outside the doctor's office. Matthew followed him.

"They think I'm crazy," Alfred complained as he sat down on a moderately uncomfortable couch.

"No, they don't," Matthew said as he sat down next to him. "Francis is just worried about you."

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest. "He doesn't understand."

Matthew chuckled. "I'm not sure if anyone understands you, Alfie. Even I don't completely understand you."

Alfred laughed. "Hey, someday, when all of this is over, let's go camping, okay?"

"I'd like that, I think," Matthew said softly.

"Yeah, I knew you would," Alfred grinned, his voice full of enthusiasm. "We can set up a tent, and make s'mores, and go stargazing. Maybe we'll even see a polar bear!"

"I'd rather not see a polar bear while I'm camping, Alfred. But we can go to the zoo and look at the polar bears."

"Yeah!" Alfred cheered, earning strange looks from the other people in the waiting area. He ignored them. "Do you think they have eagles at the zoo, too?"

Matthew sighed. "I wouldn't know. I don't think I've ever been to the zoo."

"Okay. Then we'll go someday. As soon as I have a day off from work and school, I'll take you to the zoo. You'll like it, I promise."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. They have polar bears and you like polar bears."

Matthew nodded. "I guess I would like it."

"Told you so," Alfred grinned at him as the door opened.

"Alfred, please come in. I'd like to talk to you and Francis." The doctor smiled as he spoke to Alfred.

Alfred glanced at Matthew. He suddenly felt nervous.

Matthew smiled at him and grabbed his hand. "Don't worry. I'm here with you."

Alfred nodded and walked back into the doctor's office.

* * *

Shortly after that day, Alfred moved into a hospital. Francis, the doctors and nurses all refused to tell him his diagnosis, just that they wanted to help him get better. They didn't understand. Alfred didn't want to get better; he just wanted them all to see Matthew.

Matthew was currently sprawled out on his bed, flipping through a magazine while Alfred stared out the window.

"Mattie, what are you most afraid of?" Alfred asked suddenly.

Matthew turned to him, surprised. "What makes you ask?"

"Just curious."

"I guess I'm afraid that someday you won't be able to see me." Matthew sat up, watching Alfred. "What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid that someday I won't be able to see you."

"You used to be afraid of me, you know."

Alfred laughed. "I know. But that was before I knew you. I'm not afraid of you anymore. I don't know what I'd do without you. Even before you were my friend, you were there. You've always been there for me, Mattie. Like, a secret twin or something."

Matthew laughed. "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard you say, Alfie."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not. Did you hear me the time I made pancakes?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't nearly this silly."

"Okay, Mattie. What's so silly about you being my secret twin?"

Matthew thought about it for a moment. "Well, we can't be twins. I'm a ghost, and you're a person."

Alfred moved away from the window and sat down on the bed next to Matthew. "I never told anyone this, but for as long as I can remember, I've felt like there was someone missing from my life. Like, a missing piece. Then I met you, and I got to know you. I realized how alone I was before I met you and that you kind of, I don't know, complete me? I'm lonely whenever you're not around, and you're really the only one who's ever understood me. I wish the whole world could see you, because you're like the brother I never had, and, and, I don't know what I would do without you."

Matthew reached for his hand. "I'm happy you can see me, you know."

Alfred hugged him. "I love you, Mattie."

Matthew hugged him back. "I love you, too, Alfie."

* * *

Alfred couldn't say how long he spent in the hospital. All he knew was that one morning he woke up to find that Matthew was gone. At first, he assumed the other boy had just taken a break from him, but as the day wore on, Matthew didn't return. He didn't come back the next day or the day after that. After the fifth day without Matthew, Alfred finally realized that his companion was gone for good. He threw a chair after that, then cried for two days.

Finally, Francis came to visit him. He sat on the chair next to Alfred's bed, watching his cousin silently.

"It's for the best, Alfred, really," he said finally.

Alfred just glared at him.

"He wasn't real," he continued.

"Matthew was real to me," Alfred grumbled.

"I know that, Alfred. The problem was that he wasn't real to the rest of us."

Alfred glared at him. "Maybe if you opened your eyes you would've seen him."

Francis sighed. "There was nothing to see. Matthew wasn't real. He was just in your head."

Alfred crossed his arms. "Did you know what Matthew was most scared of? He was most scared that I wouldn't be able to see him someday. And now I can't see him. He's probably scared right now, you know that, Francis?"

"You said he was a ghost. Perhaps he moved on?"

"No, Mattie wouldn't have moved on without saying good-bye. And I don't think he was a ghost. At least, not a normal ghost."

"Oh, dear. And why wasn't Matthew a normal ghost?"

"Well, Matthew grew up with me. We were kids together, we got glasses at the same time, we had a growth spurt together. Like we were twins or something. Do twins go through stuff like that at the same time?"

"I don't know, Alfred."

"But, Francis-"

"No buts."

"Francis."

"Alfred, I can't tell you anything. I don't know anything about this."

Alfred looked away from him, thinking that Matthew would have repeated that Francis was lying again. "I miss Matthew." He mumbled.

"I know, I know," Francis said softly, "It's going to be okay, Alfred. I'm here for you."

Alfred nodded, finally. "I know."

Francis smiled and hugged him. "The doctors told me that they want you to go home soon. They think it will help you get better. Would you like that?"

Alfred nodded.

"I'd like that, too. The apartment is too quiet without you."

* * *

Finally, Alfred was allowed to come home. He still had to go back periodically for appointments and counseling, but he was happy to sleep in his own bed. A few weeks went by, and Alfred and Francis tried to settle back into a routine, but Matthew's shadow still hung over them. Alfred still wanted answers, while Francis wanted to move past the whole thing.

"I still don't understand," Alfred said to his cousin while they were eating dinner. "If the doctor thinks I was hallucinating, why would I hallucinate someone who looks exactly like me?"

Francis sighed. "Alfred, you need to move on from this."

"No, not until I get answers," Alfred said stubbornly.

Francis made a motion that Alfred should continue eating, then stood up from the table and left the room. Alfred obediently finished his sandwich, then helped himself to more potato chips while waiting for Francis.

Francis finally came back after Alfred had eaten most of the chips. He was holding something.

"Hey, Fran, what's that?"

Francis sat down across from him, moving his plate before setting the object on the table. Alfred stared at it curiously. It appeared to be a book, maybe a photo album.

"I talked about this with your doctors, and they thought I should tell you, but only when I thought you were ready to handle it."

"Handle what, Francis?"

Francis swallowed, then opened the book, turning it around so Alfred could see what was inside.

Alfred leaned forward, realizing that it was indeed a photo album. He inspected the pictures on the first page. He smiled with recognition. "Hey, that's me."

Francis smiled, too. "Yes, it is."

Alfred frowned down at the picture of his two-year-old self. "Why would you be worried about showing me pictures of myself?"

"Well, they aren't all just pictures of you." Francis reached forward and turned the page.

Alfred stared at the first picture. Two boys, about two years old. Almost exactly identical. One was clearly himself, which made the other…

"Matthew." He breathed the name more than spoke it.

Francis nodded. "Matthew. Your twin brother. You were inseparable from the moment you were born. I don't remember ever seeing you apart. In fact, I'm surprised your mother got a picture with just one of you."

"What happened to him?" Alfred traced the picture as if trying to touch his lost brother.

"He died a few months after your second birthday," Francis said softly, watching Alfred for a reaction. "Your mother couldn't really handle his death, so she never talked about him. She got rid of everything that ever belonged to him, of every memory of him. The only reason these photos still exist is because my mother saved them. I suppose she thought you would want to see them someday."

Alfred continued flipping through the album, savoring the connection to his long-lost brother. "So, where does Matthew, my ghost Matthew come in?"

"I don't know," Francis said honestly. "Matthew died very suddenly, and your mother never talked about it. Maybe you never got closure, so you made up some sort of imaginary friend to cope with your loss."

Alfred felt tears gather in his eyes. "But after I started taking the medication, Matthew just disappeared. I never got to say good-bye then either. I never got closure."

"I'm sorry, Alfred." Francis stood up, walked around the table and wrapped his arms around Alfred.

Alfred let his cousin embrace him. He wanted to cry for what he had lost, but he didn't know how.

* * *

Alfred walked into the apartment after a long day at work. He had been lucky that his job had held his position for him while he had been sick. He still had bad days, mostly because he missed Matthew, but he was starting to feel human again, and living life as normally as possible helped. He said a quick hello to Francis, ducked into the kitchen to grab a snack, then headed into his room. Work had been exhausting that day, and he was ready to head to bed.

He yawned, closing his eyes as he flipped the light on. He almost cried out in shock when he opened them.

"Matthew?"

Matthew smiled sheepishly. "You can see me again?"

Alfred nodded.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's fine, it's fine," he said softly. He didn't want Francis to hear him talking to himself again.

Matthew rubbed his arm sheepishly. "I heard what Francis told you. About your twin. Matthew. Do-do you really think I'm him?"

Alfred nodded, wordlessly.

"Okay." Matthew accepted Alfred's answer.

"Do you think you're my brother?" Alfred questioned Matthew in return.

"Makes as much sense as anything I've heard," Matthew answered softly.

Alfred sat down on his bed. Matthew sat next to him.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Alfred avoided looking at Matthew. "I thought you had left me for a while."

"I'm always with you, Alfred. You know that."

"Yeah, I guess I do." Alfred pulled his shoes off, tugged his sweatshirt over his head, then sprawled across his bed. Matthew curled up next to him.

"I can't always be with you, Alfred," Matthew whispered.

"I know. But I've been talking to Francis and we're working with my doctor. They're helping me, you know."

"I know," Matthew smiled. "You're going to be okay, Alfie."

Alfred yawned and grabbed on to Matthew's hand. "I love you, Mattie."

"I love you, too, Alfie." Matthew paused and squeezed Alfred's hand. "Don't ever forget that, even if you never see me again, okay?"

"Okay." Alfred closed his eyes and fell asleep, feeling Matthew's breath against his ear.

When Alfred woke up the next morning, Matthew was gone. He sat up, looking around the room. He knew Matthew wasn't there, but he looked for him anyway, just for a moment.

He stretched and climbed out of bed, glancing at the picture he had placed on the bedside table some time ago. It was a picture of him and Matthew, with matching outfits and faces, holding hands and laughing about something he would never remember. He smiled, then stood up.

Matthew would always be there.


End file.
